Moon of Misfortunes

39*

"I'll start prepping while you relax," Rubio offers, heading towards the kitchen.

I follow him, rolling up my sleeves in anticipation. "No way. I'm helping."

He chuckles, pulling out ingredients from the fridge and cabinets. Together, we work in harmony, chopping vegetables, seasoning meat, and chatting about inconsequential things. Cooking with Rubio feels natural and comforting, a shared activity that brings us closer together.

Soon, the kitchen is filled with the aroma of herbs and spices mingling with the sizzle of food on the stove. Rubio leans over to steal a kiss, his hand brushing against mine as we move around each other in the small space.

"Dinner's almost ready," he announces, a smile tugging at his lips.

We set the table together, plates clinking softly as we arranged everything. The food looks delicious, a joint effort that fills me with a sense of accomplishment and contentment. Sitting down across from Rubio, I realize how much I appreciate these quiet moments with him, away from the chaos and challenges of life. As we eat, the silence is companionable, broken only by the occasional soft conversation or shared smile.

I smile at him. "I can make brownies. I'm craving something sweet." 

"Sure, I should have all that stuff," Rubio says, clearing our plates with a grin.

I stand up, stretching a bit after our hearty meal. "Great! I'll get started then."

Rubio nods, moving efficiently around the kitchen to rinse our dishes and wipe down the counters. His movements are graceful and purposeful, a testament to his comfort in this space. I gather the ingredients for brownies. 

As I measure out flour and cocoa powder, Rubio comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. His chin rests lightly on my shoulder, and I feel his warmth against my back.

"Need any help?" he murmurs, his breath tickling my ear.

I lean back into his embrace, enjoying the closeness. "I think I've got it under control. But you can preheat the oven for me."

Rubio presses a kiss to my temple before stepping away to handle the oven. His actions are gentle, caring, and I feel a surge of gratitude for having him in my life, especially in moments like this. 

With everything mixed and poured into the pan, I slide it into the oven. The sweet aroma of chocolate begins to fill the air, making my mouth water in anticipation. Rubio comes up beside me, his hand finding mine as I close the oven door. 

"I love that smell," he murmurs, squeezing my hand gently.

"Me too," I agree softly, feeling a wave of contentment wash over me. 

I set an old-school kitchen timer. "We only need 30-ish minutes." 

"There's a lot I can do in 30 minutes," he flirts, causing me to laugh.

I roll my eyes as I turn around. I place my hand on his chest teasingly. Rubio's hands curled around my hips, lifting me onto the counter before I could protest.

Rubio palms the apex of my thighs as he nestles between them. He leans forward to kiss me passionately. His hand finds my neck; he squeezes slightly. My thighs instinctively try to snap together, but his body blocks it. Instead, my thighs squeeze his hips, causing him to groan.

"And here I thought you were a good girl," he smirks at me, releasing my neck slightly.

"I am," I breathe out. He shakes his head 'no'.

He pushes my dress up until the fabric is bunched at the bend of my lap.

"Good girls don't like being choked. Or the thought of getting their ass fucked," his grin growing as he adds more. "You liked the fact we got caught last time. You're a bad girl."